


Shut Me Up

by YogurtTime



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Desk Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, M/M, Prostate Milking, Safewords, Semi-Public Sex, Tie Kink, gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 03:03:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YogurtTime/pseuds/YogurtTime
Summary: "You never seem to shut up when I'm touching you." Shane and Ryan play a very very terribly executed rendition of the quiet game.





	Shut Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> So Ryan was seen wearing That for their 'almost 70 episodes' celebration and understandably things got heated on my tumblr subsequently resulting in some very creative prompts in my askbox. Here is the graphic result.

 

There is a pretty damn good reason people call it “getting lucky,” and Shane is well aware of the specifics. He knows it wouldn’t be happening if he weren’t lucky; knows he would have had to search the whole country for something half as good as this and he travels often enough as it is.

It’s like ‘Chance’. Fortuity. All that. Ryan signing up for the same internship, happening to be assigned the same bullpen as him; chance that he’d smile the way he does, laugh at Shane’s jokes like that…

He hadn’t known how lucky he got until three years after when Ryan first gets two hands on his jacket and walks him back into a wall, practically shaking when his mouth made a wet form over Shane’s lips, saying ‘please’ without words.

Shane is weak for ‘please’. He’s weak for people who know they’re nice to look at, expressive people who never shut up, who talk film like a first language, who-- yeah, he’s weak for Ryan.

It’s why he’s so goddamn lucky that Ryan’s skin thrums to life when Shane stares at him, that he gets flushed and babbles his way into nonsense trying to get Shane to keep looking.

Shane is lucky that Ryan wore a suit he’d bought before he’d started bulking up. There is _definition_ under the white shirt, pleading at his buttons and Ryan keeps the jacket open and doesn’t mind sprawling on the chairs he sits in,, taut thighs kissing the fabric like it’s stretched in a second skin of polyblend and black, looking delectable in all the ways that make Shane impatient to get him alone. He’d like to push Ryan hard, touch him around his weak edges, see if Ryan might pop right out of his pants, make Ryan clench right around him. That’d be so...

“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” Ryan says, breaking right into Shane’s sizzling thought with a tone soft enough he could be speaking to himself while the crew is running playback.

Shane gestures aimlessly at the room, a quiet warning of what he can’t say around other ears.

Ryan’s smile spills, expressive mouth opening and he laughs a little, deep and throaty. “Wow, really?” he says. “Now?”

“…Yes.” Shane can’t help the low pulse of desperate heat.

“Well, they’re not going anywhere for awhile, you know?” Ryan replies, that insufferably sweet smile still on his lips. “So what’re you gonna do?”

“ _Ryan_.” It’s supposed to be a warning, supposed to mean ‘don’t fuck around’ but he wants it so badly.

“ _Shane_ ,” Ryan echoes, and he hikes himself back in his chair, like he’s just getting comfortable but his arm on the back of his chair flexes even through the thickness of his suit jacket and he presents a sliding view of his thighs spreading over the sides of the chair, straining at the inseam. Shane exhales reflexively, shutting his eyes, anything not to look.

“Stop,” he mumbles, glancing at TJ who is fiddling with the lens and describing something to Brent. Two others are gathered around the viewfinder pointing out the cut markers and the transcriber intern is bowed over her pages, making notes and typing top speed on her mac between. No one is looking but Shane isn’t into taking chances like this.

“Is it the suit?” Ryan tries again. “I didn’t know you were into formal wear…”

“Stop it,” Shane breathes. He isn’t looking at him, will never look at him until he can get his body to quit anticipating something that isn’t even happening right then.

“Make me.”

He wants that, he wants more than that. He wants, he wants that like he’s never wanted anything before. Shut up Ryan’s mouth with whatever’s on hand, bend him over something and make him just take it.

“Ok, we’re just gonna need one more take of the close off,” TJ interjects, making Ryan’s gaze drop from his. “Andy has it written out,Shane, if you need your cue.”

Shane nods numbly. His damn mind keeps trying to catch up, failing and trying again. A punctuated rhythm of repeating thought. Ryan liked to tease him. Half a year it’s been and Shane’s fallen into a pattern of repeat offenses, being cloyed into Ryan’s world, sliding so easily into this black hole of intoxicating, flesh-hungry arousal. Familiarity riding on more familiarity, breeding something close to contempt, even better, frustration.

Most importantly, Shane knows Ryan’s only riling him up so he can get lucky too.

 

 

 

It’s past eleven when everyone leaves and Shane returns to the set. It’s never been at work; he and Ryan agreed but something is different now. Alone in the dimly lit room, Shane’s heart is hammering at the base of his throat and it pulses just behind his ears, roaring with nervousness he hasn’t felt in forever.

Because Ryan’s already there waiting for him, thankfully still in his dress shirt and slacks. His tie is undone, however, and the tendrils of his hair wet. Must have splashed water on himself after the burning lighting on the set was switched off.

“Shane.” Ryan’s voice is nervous and it shatters something sharp in Shane’s chest. “You wanna come here?”

Ryan stands near their desk, the soft hazy lighting makes the lines of his face seem less defined and Shane can’t think of a reason not to, so he goes to him. Ryan melts against him, abruptly pliant and sweet, his lips gliding over Shane’s jaw even as his smaller curvy body folds in on itself, arms coming up and cradling Shane’s shoulders. He twines around Shane like he could try and climb him. It’s so sudden and Shane can’t do much but put his hands on Ryan’s hard hips and just hold on, letting his hands rest there. The heat of Ryan’s skin soaks through his shirt and makes Shane’s palms itch where they’re touching.

“I almost couldn’t wait,” Ryan whispers against his skin. Shane can’t say anything; there aren’t actual sensible words for all the spikes and ideas in his head. His voice sticks in his throat and Ryan nuzzles against him, sliding slowly like an affectionate cat against his chest. “Someone had to notice.”

Shane laughs, a strange sort of stuttering sound. How it was that after all this time Ryan could make him come over all goofy. “If someone noticed, it’d be your fault.”

“My fault?” Ryan exclaims, toying the hem of Shane’s shirt. “When you can’t stop staring at me like I’m a piece of meat.”

Shane doesn’t know when he scooped fingers into Ryan’s hair, but he likes it, the silkiness of its texture how it feels when he clenches his fingers around the strands and Ryan hums hopefully against him. “You never seem to shut up when I’m touching you.”

Ryan laughs again and the glint of the appealing flush, embarrassment and delight in his eyes burns Shane deep in his core. “What if I want you to make me?” Ryan all but purrs the words, rolling each one off his tongue. _Really_. Only Ryan can say things like that to Shane, can deliver the words smoothly like they’ve been sitting in his mouth all day but then go pink around the ears and cheeks like deep down he knows how desperate he sounds.

Shane doesn’t pull, he tugs on Ryan’s hair, almost has him arching off the balls of his feet, perching back on the desk with a shaky huff of breath he follows with a throaty groan just for Shane. That sets him off. “See? What happens if I make you cry?”

Ryan stills, staring at him, steady and with a tiny little mocking quirk on the corner of his lips that drives Shane to near madness. “That sounds like _your_ problem tonight.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, Shane. Try to keep me quiet.”

The first kiss is a surprise for both of them, Ryan pulling against the hold Shane has in his hair and surging forward to catch his lips in a quick kiss. Shane chases it, and Ryan swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, just the quickest flick of his tongue like a tease. “Anything goes?” he asks when he finally releases Ryan’s lips, his breath feathering against the heat if his mouth and making his lips tingle. “I can get pretty creative.”

Ryan’s laugh feels like a bass beat in Shane’s mouth, his rib cage swells and Shane loves so much that Ryan is always laughing with him, around him. “Anything I don’t like, I’ll tell you.”

“Just say the word and I’ll stop,” Shane replies, distracted because Ryan’s tie is black satin, and it comes off at the slightest tug of Shane’s fingers. Index finger digging at the knot, dragging it apart.

With the tie dropped to the floor Ryan starts with the buttons at the base of his throat. Everything about Ryan has been bigger lately, like his body had been put together and stretched like milked caramel. Long, sturdy legs, a taut bronze torso with broad round arms, even if all these features are dwarfed by Shane’s.

“The word is,” Ryan declares thoughtfully, “ _Seventy_.”

Shane nods, watching as the first three buttons are undone quickly. Ryan then pauses to trail his fingertips over his throat for a full, quiet second, dark eyes darting at Shane a bit challengingly.

“What if for some crazy reason you can’t make words,” Shane prompts languidly.

Shane thinks of biting that spot on his throat, but that’d be a surefire way to get Ryan to moan and loudly. There’s something about that look in the end that tells Shane that deep down that’s precisely what Ryan wants.

“Then I’ll tap you with three fingers… or I could scream if you like. I don’t mind being heard,” Ryan confesses, falling really easily into the safety of his role and Shane’s eyebrows fly up. “Maybe getting caught is just your problem.”

“And they call me the demon,” Shane snaps lightly.

Ryan undoes his slim leather belt and pulls it from the loops with a soft hiss of moving fabric and he holds it out for a moment. “You want to use this?” he prompts half-jokingly. Only half.

Shane answers by seizing the edges of Ryan’s shirt and ripping at the lapels until it bursts open, the sounds of at least two buttons flying off into the dark. “Three fingers, right?”

“ _Jesus_ , Shane!” Ryan laughs-- too loud-- wriggling a bit before he undoes the button zip to his tight slacks and pushes them down with his boxers in one go. Those thighs. Shane has to bite his tongue a little when Ryan bends neatly to slip off one, then the other. The entire time so completely shameless in his nudity, already hard, cock curving out against his delicious-looking upper thigh.”Yeah, I’ll give you a firm tap with three fingers.”

Certain he can begin, Shane barely waits for Ryan to straighten and steps in front of him for another kiss. He can feel the heat of Ryan’s skin against his clothes and nothing but smooth under his palms as he runs his hands up from the small of his back up to the ridges of Ryan’s shoulder blades. Ryan makes a soft sound, rubbing against the cloth of Shane’s white jeans with soft rolls of his hips. He rubs up against him like an animal in heat, kissing against the curve of his jaw in these small darting kitten-like flicks of his tongue mixed with the barest scrape of his teeth. Ryan is just so completely naked, all soft and sleek, and Shane sort of wants to touch everywhere at once.

“Get on the desk,” Shane slaps his thigh indicatively to get him to raise them and Ryan gives him a slow coy look.

“Oho, big boy’s giving orders,” he says, and pipes his voice a little louder, just above their whispers so anyone standing outside the set door would hear. “ _You know that’s what I like, daddy_.”

Shane claps a hand over Ryan’s mouth. “You gotta be kidding me,” he hisses, trying not to laugh as Ryan’s eyes narrow, smiling behind Shane’s palm. He is going to have to make him be quiet one way or another even if Ryan is determined to be mouthy about it.

“What’s that for?” Ryan queries languidly, tail-end of a chuckle bubbling up as Shane reaches down to pick up Ryan’s discarded tie.

“You’re gonna shut up now,” Shane growls, pressing the material of the tie against Ryan’s lips. Shane can’t help but smile with relief at the sweet almost petulant look on Ryan’s face. He lets his fingers drag over the contours of Ryan’s lips and Ryan licks at the tips of his fingers for a moment, ignoring the fact that he’s ruining his own tie in the process.

It’s a bit easier to think now that Ryan can’t talk, can’t put words into his mouth with that lilting smooth voice. Ryan makes a small contemplative sound and just blinks at him expressionlessly, black tie cutting beautifully across his face and forcing his lips open around it. Shane makes a quick knot of it in the back leaving enough to form a leash if he wants one.

He can’t help the way his fingers keep stealing across the line of Ryan’s tie and Ryan’s skin, pressing slightly into his cheeks and the slack of his lips. It isn’t a full gag, Ryan can still make that inquiring sound in the back of his throat and that’s sort of perfect. Reaching behind Ryan’s head he tugs on the other end of the tie, “Lie down,” he orders.

Ryan nods and Shane can feel the jerk and tug of the leash in his hand and Shane swallows hard, struggling not to give away the burn of heat in his stomach. The fact that he’s already hard without having to touch himself, he can feel the slight sticky touch of the head of his cock leaking against the cotton of his boxers, straining.

Ryan moves awkwardly, Shane purposely pulling down quite a bit shorter, making Ryan stoop to keep the pull slack. Shane lets him fall onto it as he would. Ryan spreads himself across the desk, wiggling up onto the edge, supposedly small but managing to take up twice as much room with his reach.

It sort of startles him. The awe that brushes his senses, almost near-worship. “Look at _you_ now,” Shane whispers, and he presses down on Ryan’s hips, pinning him so that his knees are over the edge of the desk, but his arms and chest spread open wide like a buffet. Shane starves for the feel of silky skin under his own. He starts with Ryan’s hands, perched on top of his hips, still fully dressed, but it was impossible to hide how turned on he is now, the rise of his dick pressing obscene against the front of his slacks and into Ryan’s stomach.

Ryan can only make a strangled hungry sound, staring at him, and he goes to move one of his hands just like Shane figures he would and he takes great pleasure in catching his wrist and pinning it to the desk by his head. He presses enough of his weight on the trapped joint until he can feel the movement of his bones against his palm and Ryan’s eyes go all wide and dark.

Perched on top of him Shane stares at Ryan’s face, the way his hair is all dishevelled and tangled against his forehead. He bends low enough so he can place a kiss to Ryan’s lips, but the gag is making him drool, and being unable to close his mouth is beginning to get sort of messy, so Shane just hovers there, letting Ryan taste the heat of his breath. Ryan whines, but doesn’t strain up to kiss him. Shane uses his small finger to drag the satin downward, freeing Ryan’s mouth for a brief moment, pleased when Ryan doesn’t utter a word, biting his lips unconsciously obedient.

His own voice was low and rough, surprised him a little with the heat it carried. “Be as loud as you want.”

Ryan nods and Shane can feel his whole body tense and relax through every place he was pushing him into the desk.

The muscles of Ryan’s biceps bulge a little and Shane can’t help but press his lips there for a moment, mapping the tightness with his lips and Ryan makes a happy little sound in his throat. He can feel the race of Ryan’s pulse just under his kiss when he works his way closer to his shoulder, the thrum of his subclavian artery jumping when Ryan tenses.

“You’re so beautiful.” Shane breathed against the sharpness of Ryan’s collar bone.

Ryan swallows, huffing out a hot breath around his gag, eyes swimming with a sudden realisation. Nothing makes him fall apart faster than when Shane compliments him.

“Why are you so soft, Ryan,” Shane whispers over the middle line going down Ryan’s chest, and Ryan makes a series of strangled noises, obviously talking through the gag uncaring that it was impossible to understand him. -- Ryan’s skin _is_ so smooth, warm and soft, it slid along his cheek with the faint slip and drag of friction.

He follows the smooth, tan skin from the line of his neck down to the slim muscles of his chest across his nipples. Ryan arches his back, not really subtle in an attempt to get him where he wants it. So Shane slips past the tight little nipple, and traces the bottom curve of his pectoral with the edge of his thumbnail and watches Ryan’s limbs tense and shiver. So he does it again. That is something else, Ryan shivers again; always so responsive, arching up into Shane’s hands like he can’t get enough of the feeling. The subtle play of his ribs under his skin shifts distractingly with each breath. When he puts his palms over it he can feel each breath moving through his chest. The rise and fall of it and the slip of his ribs under Shane’s fingers, he presses down a little so he can lean over him, touching his lips to the soft edges around his nipple.

Ryan moans and pushes into the contact, sucking in a shuddering breath through the gag and shaking under the pressure on his chest. Shane scrapes only the edges of his teeth across the already peaked nipple. Ryan jerks, twitching helplessly under his hands. The next time he does it a little harder, and Ryan actually squeaks.

It was a cute little sound. Muted under the gag and Shane shoots Ryan a smile, gratified by the glazed, dizzy look in his eyes, a thunderous vengeance under it all.

He just can’t help himself anymore; he licks delicately at the edges of Ryan’s nipple, and it doesn’t taste like anything, the faintly chemical taste of his detergent and soap mixed together. Smooth texture, one little point of roughness. He tongues it, letting it roll across the flat of his tongue to drag across the tip. Ryan twists a little, so Shane presses down just a little harder, keeping him in place. Ryan stills under him, like he’s testing how far Shane will let him move, the edges of what exactly he’s offering here.

“Legs,” he mutters, tapping Ryan’s side as he stands back. They shift around carefully so that Shane can stand between the enticing spread of Ryan’s thighs. The skin on the inside of his legs was soft, and the hair here was softer, less coarse and Shane sighs, petting his legs in broad sweeps that make the muscles twitch and tense.

It’s possible he looks even better like this, completely spread for him, like a blank canvas, the half-hard rise of his dick looking helpless there against his thigh.

Shane follows the smooth curve of his legs up to the sharp little hills of his hips, the slight hollow of his waist, flat tummy with a downy line of hair leading to the darker curl of his pubic hair, wiry between his fingers, petting it, and rubbing his fingers down to the sensitive base of his cock. Ryan sort of jumps towards the touch, clearly trying to stay as still as he can, shoulders pressed back against the wood of the desk, but his hips jerk and Shane can only grin at it, watching his tummy tighten with the effort of rubbing himself up against Shane’s fingers.

He can feel the low pulse of blood in Ryan’s cock when he presses the tips of his fingers to the thick vein on the bottom, watching as Ryan moves helplessly, wriggling, under just the ends of his fingers and his stare. He makes some sort of muffled sound through the gag, not words or whimpers, just aborted hisses of air dragging over soaked polyester. The fabric is a little darker where it's wet, and Ryan’s lips gleam red with saliva.

“Good boy,” Shane says, probably not even loud enough for Ryan to hear. He dreams of cathedrals, he dreams of great pagodas with all the delicate grace and strength like the ones in wall scrolls. He could imagine the greatest beauty in the world, and see it echoed in the abandoned splay of Ryan’s arms, the way pushing his hands like that had the effect of leaving his chest open. It’s still about architecture, phi, universal constants and the angles between things, bending it to your will.

Shane draws downward and Ryan watches him, neck visibly straining before he gives up and flops against the desk again. His stomach tightens and his thighs twitch helplessly when Shane scrapes his teeth over that fine trail of hair. Ryan’s dick twitches against his chin, and Shane pets his slim, bony knees, fingers the sharpness of his knees. He licks delicately at Ryan’s cock because he knows Ryan craves the attention and Ryan makes this little helpless sound, but Shane can tell he’s trying not to move. As a reward he tongues the soft underside, curling his hands over his hips and pushing his legs out of the way. Ryan surprises him a bit by just _bending_ , pushing his legs to the almost impossible angles that Shane pushes him to. He can hold Ryan’s hands together, curled a little under his own hips to push them up and open as the rest of him. He can also pull the head of Ryan’s cock into his mouth.

Ryan gets harder, dick filling against Shane’s lips, and like this he can’t move, there isn’t anywhere on the small desk he can dig his feet in to push against Shane. He can only take it. Ryan must have figured this out at the same time because he makes this desperate little helpless sound against his gag.

“You were right, it’s my fault. I love making you like this,” Shane says, voice thick, breathing hot over the gentle curve of his tummy. “When you’re like this, all I want is to hear you beg.”

Oh, Ryan _will_ beg. He’ll look so perfect all desperate and needy. He has to push Ryan a little further, and he grunts softly, so he can uncurl himself far enough to reach the single-use little foil of lube that Ryan hadn’t been really subtle about leaving there.

“Now you can move your hands, but no touching me, or the gag, got it?” Shane rips the foil open with his teeth and stares at Ryan through his own now damp hair. He looks frayed, while before he’d worn the gag as if it was a fashion accessory of some kind, he’s beginning to look all properly ruined now. Ryan’s eyes are locked on Shane’s fingers; he lets some of it pool all slick and warm on his palm and rubs his fingers in it.

They gleamed in the low lighting when he wiggled them, lube slipping down the meat of his palm to curl around the delicate bones of his own wrist.

“Got it?” he repeats.

Ryan nods, looking a little dazed, but he doesn’t move his hands at first. Shane can’t help feeling rather inordinately pleased with that.

He licks at the little dip of his navel, letting his slick fingers play over the soft, tissue-papery skin on his balls. He slips his fingers behind them, cupping their warm weight, and pressing up and behind with just the ends of his fingers and Ryan moans, stomach tightening under his lips. Shane then lets his fingers trail lower until they’re caught on the ridges and Ryan jerks, letting out a muffled hard noise, almost a wail. He doesn’t press inside right away, that would be giving too much too fast, or taking too much as it is. Ryan shifts a bit, legs tightening and trying to press back against the soft pressure.

He licks out, pressing a smacking kiss to the tight head of Ryan’s cock and Ryan stills again, whining softly. Shane takes the head in his mouth and presses inside at the same time and that pulls a loud groan from Ryan’s chest, his thighs tight around Shane’s shoulders. The head fits perfectly in the cradle of his tongue, keeping his lip over his teeth as he licked at the slit and followed the shape to the ridges of the underside and all the sensitive little places there. Ryan takes his finger easily, all soft and silky inside and so hot-- his dick jerks a little, tightening in his lower belly as he imagined sinking in there and pounding him against the desk. Ryan would take it too, looking all fucked out, mouth all red from the gag.

Probably a little too fast and a little too rough, pushing two fingers into him while he lets the head of Ryan’s cock slide against the silken lining of the inside of his cheek, before sucking on it as deep as he could comfortably take it at this angle. Ryan makes these soft whining sounds, feet kicking, but completely helpless to do anything but tug a creaking pull on the edge of the desk and stare. Deeper and relentless, feeling Ryan tight around his fingers, muscles all a-squeeze and resisting the movement. Pressing deeper and harder, Ryan isn’t playing at making those little groaning sounds. They’re real, spilling around the edges of his satin gag.

Shane knows he gets it right when Ryan sobs like he’s gonna cry, going all tight for a moment before trying to rock back on Shane’s fingers, all twitchy and loud. Shane smiles as much as he could, Ryan’s cock pressing against the roof of his mouth and causing saliva to well and escape the corners of his mouth.

His pace is hard and fast, rubbing tight little circles over his prostate while sucking hard on the head, bobbing clumsily. It works , too-- before long Ryan’s crying out with each rough tug on his dick, hands knotted in his own hair as his back arches and flexes. He’s close, body tight and hot under and around Shane.

“Come on, come for me,” he says, voice gone all gravel-rough and abused and Ryan actually wails, legs trembling and obviously riding that edge. Using his left hand to jerk him off is awkward, but it works, a few rough strokes through the not quite slick enough tunnel of his fist and Ryan is keening, going even tighter, skin burning hot to the touch. He makes the most beautiful sounds as he flies apart on Shane’s fingers, coming in thick stripes across his own clenched, tanned stomach.

Shane doesn’t stop pushing him higher, pressing in tight little circles until Ryan is making these perfect pleading little _pained_ sounds.

“Too much?” Ryan nods hard, eyes wide above his gag, face gone all red. When he finally lets go Ryan goes completely limp, chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath again. Shane watches in fascination as his own hand swipes through some of the mess, leaving the tips of his fingers slimy and wet.

“Look at you. You’re a mess.” Shane smiles, he can’t help it, the flush spreading all the way down Ryan’s chest is just so lovely, the skin around his mouth is all irritated and pink, wet from his own saliva and his bottom lip looks obscene all puffy and stretched around the gag. He traces the give of Ryan’s slick lower lip with his wet fingers and Ryan can’t lick it off without some serious effort, wearing his own come like gloss.

“Can you come again?” He licks the delicate curve of Ryan’s jaw, tracing the edges of his tie with his nails.

In response Ryan whines and shakes his head slowly, staring at Shane like he knows what’s coming. It’s one easy movement, curled fingers around the free end of Ryan’s ruined tie and tugging him back so his ass is thrust up against the hard shape in Shane’s jeans. It’s too difficult not to rock a little, let Ryan’s already used opening feel him, how much he wanted him.

“But you will,” Shane says softly, a little brokenly and Ryan’s eyes flutter closed, pushing his face away from Shane’s hands. “It’s probably going to hurt a bit, but that’s what you want, right?” Ryan whines, nodding when Shane pauses, waits for Ryan to tap him. Nothing. He hooks his fingers under the tie and pulls it out of his mouth, it’s soaked and Ryan’s mouth moves for a few seconds, looking lost without it between his lips. “What was that?”

“I… want it, Shane.” His voice skips and cracks over his name when Shane pinches a nipple, letting his nail just dig into the delicate little piece of flesh, enough edge to thrill.

Ryan’s eyes are hazy, and he’s caught somewhere painful between too tight and too loose and Shane only wants to bring him higher, and it takes everything in him not to rub off on the back of Ryan’s hard thigh because this is real. He’s going to ruin Ryan past the point of all his protests, teasing, and sharp mocking jibes. The feeling of control Ryan gives him in seconds like this is like flying, like dreaming.

Ryan is still all slick inside when he pushes in with three fingers, Ryan’s back twists and arches up away from the thickness of his fingers. So Shane uses his other hand to force him back down and onto it and Ryan moans, tossing his head and Shane will never get tired of that, how much Ryan loves to be stretched.

“I know you want it, Ryan.” Shane kissed the bend of his knee, and Ryan presses his eyes shut, but one of his hands uncurls from the edge of the desk to rub absently at his wet head, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. “I want you ready for me.”

Between them they manage to get Ryan hard again, but he keeps making these delicious little sounds, hips jerking, completely caught between the two sensations. It’s so beautiful to watch.

By the time Shane deems him ready, Ryan’s ass is a mess of lube and Shane’s fingers, spreading him wide just to watch the way it makes his eyes flutter and his breath stutter in his chest. Ryan starts babbling, mostly incoherent sounds, consonants without vowels and disjointed syllables spilling from between bitten lips. When the sounds begin to turn desperate and Shane’s wrist aches from the angle, he finally pulls out and Ryan sags, staring at him with a dazed awestruck expression, mouth hanging loose all soft and fucked out.

Shane wrests open his jeans, barely able to manage it with his skin feeling almost too tight and too hot, more than ready to come apart. He knows Ryan in this state can’t move on his own so Shane crowds him, pulls him in as Ryan made unhelpful little abortive movements, spreading his legs again, and moving his feet restlessly across the side of the desk. Shane catches one of ankles in his hand and holds it out, letting Ryan’s other leg curl around him, heel digging into the small of his back and trying to pull him closer.

“Yes,” Ryan gasps, almost chokes like Shane is pressing all the air out of him, his face just crumpling when he rubs his cock against the loose stretch of muscle teasingly. “Oh, god. _Please_.”

Shane has to grit his teeth, sinking slowly inside of Ryan, deeper than his fingers can reach and spreading him so open. There is a marveling pleasure he takes in knowing Ryan loves how deep he goes, how he’s hard to get used to the stretch of him, bigger than anyone he’s ever had.

“Ah fuck,” he curses under his breath; it was all satin heat and the sweet slick friction of lube.

He slides his other hand up from his thigh so it rests on Ryan’s chest, thumb and fingers bracketing the base of his long neck just under the loose hang of his tie, and leaving him partially bent over him, staring at his face. The way his lips shift and move like he’s trying to say something, the corners of his mouth still all irritated.

“You’re going to come again.” He watches the way Ryan’s eyes flutter, trying to focus on his face.

“I can’t.” He arches, and Shane lets go of his leg so he can wrap his fingers around Ryan’s on his dick and he squeezes, breaking off another little piece of Ryan which shatters with a sharp gasp.

“You will, just relax into it.”

Shane shifts a little so that his legs are a little more stable under him, setting up a slow pace, drawing it up and pushing in hard, forcing Ryan to fuck the tunnel of their fists. It isn’t long at all before Ryan starts to shake his head and almost sobbing, face gone all blotchy again; he shakes apart under Shane’s hands, pulled so tight he looks like he’s going to snap something.

“No, I c-can’t,” he hiccoughs, and the head of his cock is flushed almost purple, painfully hard. Shane can feel the tightening in his own stomach, more than enough to get off on, but he wants it all.

“Yes you can.”

Shane lets go, letting his fingers play over the tightness of Ryan’s balls, and god, he has to be so sensitive by now that it was equal parts pain and pleasure, keeping him all tight and perfect. He presses his thumb against the tight stretch of his ass, feeling the overly hot slide against the edge between his cock and his thumb and that’s all Ryan needs.

Preemptively, Shane claps a hand over Ryan’s mouth just as Ryan almost screams when he comes, like it’s being torn from him, his cock jerking with a few drops smearing across his belly. He jerks like he’s touched a live wire, going so tight and Shane groans low in his throat, slamming up and into him _hard_ digging his fingers into his hip and pulling Ryan off the surface of the desk, practically back on him.

It seems to go on forever, Ryan choking on his own sobs, breath coming out in a stuttered mess, and he’s just so _wrecked_. Shane leans back, holding Ryan’s hips up a little with his arms so he can slam up into him. Tight and hot, letting Ryan swallow him in a slippery contact, his entire body like liquid and he melts on Shane, takes him all the way in and it’s so. perfect.

“Oh fuck fuck.” Shane, pressing as deep as he can go and trying to push deeper in quick little jerks as it crashes through him. After holding on for so long it’s like being hit by a train. It pulls from somewhere deep inside and fizzles like fireworks. It seems like it’s pulling down from his spine and oh god, he can’t remember the last time he came this hard.

He has to hold on the top edge of the desk to keep from crushing completely on Ryan, but they cling together in a heaving bliss, Ryan’s shaking fingers coming up the back of his neck, holding him still over him as if Shane had any plans to move. It strums through the both of them, the grazed and bare threads of Ryan’s chuckles, and Shane almost twists to look down at Ryan. Ryan still holds him still and his nose brushes over the sweat on the side of his face, nuzzling his ear before murmuring in a tone too ragged to sound as catty as he means it to.

“You don’t know how to shut up either, you jerk.”

Shane snorts, feels his muscles protest as he coughs laughter right against Ryan’s throat, which triggers every single one of Ryan’s most ticklish nerves and all of a sudden he'scrambling, laughing even harder. Shane has to hold him to keep them from rolling off the desk.

“Seventy!” Ryan howls and if anyone is in the building they definitely hear  _that_.

 

 

 

The truth of it is TJ Marchbank, on the editing floor--on the verge of packing to go home-- just above them does hear the sudden and inexplicable sound of Ryan shouting the word ‘Seventy” through the vents of the floor. He is understandably and supportively pleased that Ryan Bergara loves and celebrates the years and number of episodes they’ve spent on Buzzfeed Unsolved that much.

No video producer could possibly be so lucky.

 


End file.
